


Twenty Four Hours

by mochawhip



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochawhip/pseuds/mochawhip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bittersweet tea, Sunflora bouquets, and chocolates shaped like Pikachu heads serve as an ideal method of courtship for idiots like Red. Selection of hour-based prompts from community 24hour_themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two A.M: ridding partnerships or relationships of negativity.

“I’m Green.”

The boy turns away from his lumpy sandcastle, gives Green an uninterested glance, then turns back to his creation without a word.

Green huffs and puts his hands on his hips. Doesn’t this boy know who he is? He’s Professor Oak’s grandson, directly related to the famous researcher whose knowledge and wealth will someday belong to Green. He’s important. People will write books about him. It’s what everyone says, or at least it’s what it sounds like in his ears. Everyone is really nice to him when they find out he’s in the Oak family. They take one look at the professor’s ailing back and graying hair, then their attention is only on Green.

“My gramps is Professor Oak,” he continues. “He’s moving his lab down here. He knows everything about Pokemon.”

The boy looks at him again, confusion instead of disinterest in his eyes this time. Green feels his breath catch in his throat. The boy’s eyes are red, sharp, and dull all at once.

He speaks, barely a whisper. “Who?”

“Professor Oak, dummy!” Green almost can’t believe his ears. “Haven’t you heard about him?”

“No.” The boy returns to his sandcastle, hand digging around the mass for a makeshift moat. “Sorry.”

Green clenches the front of his oversized shirt. He’s never run into anyone who had no idea about his family. He always has to brag about what he knows, hide behind Gramps’ coat when the crowds become too much, ignore questions about his future and where the inheritance will go.

He sits down in the sand and catches a mound before it breaks off from the boy’s castle.

“You need to add more water to make it stay! What’s your name? How old are you?”

* * *

Red turns six several months after Green does. There aren’t any other kids in Pallet to throw a big party for either of them, but Green is more than happy with only Red being there.

Unfortunately, Red’s birthday falls on a school day, and they still have to wake up early and jump on the first ferry to Cinnabar. The morning fog is cold and the island is stuffed with weird tourists, but Green doesn’t mind. He likes school, because he’s going to be smart and famous like Gramps, and Red is here with him. His uniform is finely pressed and he wears it proudly; Red’s looks a little rougher, and Green is starting to suspect that his household doesn’t have as much money as the Oak household.

Unable to wait any longer, Green dives into his backpack the moment they’re on the ferry. He knows he should wait until after they get back home and Red blows out the candles on his cake, but he wants to be the first to give Red a gift. Being first is always the best.

“Red, Red.” It’s hard to resist repeating that name. “I have your present.”

Red stops picking at the threads on his shirt and stares at the brightly-wrapped package in Green’s hands. Slowly, he takes it, fascinated at how the light shimmers against the wrapping paper.

“I wrapped it myself!” Green crosses his arms and nods. He had Daisy do most of the wrapping, or maybe it was all of it, but Green was there and that’s all Red needs to know.

Red unwraps the gift in the most tedious way possible: breaking the tape on the back, plucking off the delicate ribbons, undoing all the hard work Green (Daisy) did step by step. Green’s fingers dig into his jacket, desperate to simply tear the paper apart himself and get on with it.

Finally, Red frees the present and holds up a fat picture book. “Pokemon?”

“It’s a picture guide for Pokemon!” Green grabs the book and flips through the pages, searching for his favorites. He already has his own copy with every page memorized to the word – well, the words he can understand. But this book is perfect because it’s written for curious children like them, so Red should find it useful, too.

“It has all the known species right now,” he babbles excitedly. “There’s about a hundred, but Gramps is always finding out about new ones. There could be thousands. Bajillions!”

“That’s not a number,” Red explains flatly. Green waves his hand and turns some more pages. It’ll be a number if he wants it to be.

“Gramps was a trainer, and I’m gonna be one, too.” His fingers brush over the images of Lapras, Ditto, Eevee. “And then I’ll find all the Pokemon in the world, and I’ll be the best trainer, and I’ll be the most famous person ever.”

When Green closes the book and looks back, Red is staring out the ferry window, not having heard a word Green said.

* * *

Green turns eight and feels like he’s on top of the world.

He’s able to read through some of the harder Pokemon books and absorbs it all. Gramps is impressed with his knowledge and school grades and how fast he’s growing.

Green just wishes that Red would think the same, sometimes.

“Who’s gonna be your starter?”

Red ducks his head and scribbles sloppily on his homework. Green finished his own work not too long ago and munches on the cookies that Red’s mother left out. They’re much better than anything Daisy makes. He almost grabs the last cookie, but remembers to be polite and leave it for Red to eat.

“Who’s gonna be your starter?” he repeats. Red only gives him a brief glance.

“Starter?”

“Your starter Pokemon, dummy!” His voice is more exasperated than teasing. Why isn’t Red as eager as he is? Becoming a Pokemon master is their shared dream, in Green’s mind. “When we get older and become trainers, we can get a Pokemon from Gramps. Who do you want as your first?”

Red shrugs and continues on his homework. “Don’t know.”

Green takes the last cookie.

* * *

He’s ten and his grades are slipping. Gramps starts forgetting his name but remembers again only to yell at Green for something. It’s not his fault he pushed those kids when they were in his way, or when he made that girl cry, or when he broke one of Red’s games because Red was playing that more than seeing Green – when Red was helping up a student who tripped instead of walking along with Green – when Red started pushing back when Green shoved at him.

He’s old enough now to understand when it’s over. Gramps holds him back while Red’s mother wraps her warm arms around her son, kissing away the bruise on his cheek and cut on his hand.

Green hates him for that. He hates how Red always seems to get everything he wants while Green has to work for it all. Green’s going to become amazing and famous one day, but it’s so hard to get there. He hates how difficult life suddenly became.

Most of all, he hates that he’s crying his eyes out and shouting the worst filth his childish mind can come up with at Red, while Red stands still, eyes completely dry, and takes it all.

It’s over forever, in his mind.

* * *

Red soon becomes ten, too. His grades are okay and his mother is doing really well, so she’s able to afford more luxuries for the house. Daisy and Professor Oak drop off cards and gifts, but it’s only him and Mom today.

She takes him to Viridian for a day, complete with any attraction he wants to see, lunch at any restaurant he chooses, and any one present he desires.

“Go on, dear,” she urges when they enter the shopping center. Her fingers twist nervously around her purse strap. “Anything you like.”

Red’s eyes flicker between the shops. The fancy clothing in the displays stands out against their own outfits. He briefly stares at the toy store, packed with eager hands and desperate pleas. Noisy.

He picks the bookstore next to it and heads over to the Pokemon section.

* * *

The next few years are a blur for Green.

By the time he is eleven, he’s on top of the world and crashing down his throne all at once. He feels numb until age twelve and then returns to the top, somewhat, as Viridian City’s new gym leader. He nearly forgets his dream to become famous until all the papers stop talking about how little time he was Champion and start gushing over how incredible a Leader he is. By the time he’s thirteen, many start talking about how handsome he is.

Many things happen when he finally turns fifteen, but the most important event is when some punk from Johto spins through his floor and sweeps it clean with Green’s Pokemon. He’s offended and flattered all at once, but this kid is incredible, determined–

_Annoying–_

“Stop. Calling. _Me_.” Green growls into his pokegear. The clock reads two AM when he rolls over to glare at it, the numbers burning into his vision.

“Green! Oh man, how’re doing? I know you said only to call on Sundays, but it’s technically Sunday now anyway, right? I don’t really know what time it is, so I tried to make a guess by looking at the moon’s position and–”

Green drops his head back to the pillow, trying to drown out the constant noise that keeps coming out of Hibiki’s mouth. His thumb sleepily tries to find the button to cancel the call, but misses when Hibiki suddenly cries out and Green’s whole body jumps.

“Wait! I called for a reason! I was just on Mount Silver and there were all these hailstorms and these – er, I beat him, Green! I think I ran into Red and beat him!”

The call does accidentally end when Green sits up fast enough to send his phone flying across the room and smashing to the floor.

* * *

He turns nineteen today but he’s still working, despite Gramps’ protests. Green waves it off and promises he’ll stop once Red arrives at the Oak labs – and even if he doesn’t, Red will probably find a way to force him to stop. Red has to get his own way, after all.

Green is checking over data when he hears the doorbell ring. Red won’t come for another few hours, so Green knows it’s safe to answer the door in his lab coat, glasses and tie without looking like a total loser.

Except it _is_ Red when he opens the door, so Green looks like a loser anyway.

“What the hell!” Green slams the door in his face and strips off as much geeky attire as possible before Red opens the door himself. Off with the lab coat, glasses, and tie, and he’s just untucking his shirt by the time Red lets himself in.

Green puts his hands on his hips, feigning casual, but the look on Red’s face says that he’s not fooled in the least.

“Okay, fine, you caught me,” Green says, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m doing work here now, too. Just part time. _Part time_. It’s not like I wanna hang around with a bunch of scientists all day. I got enough dweebs in Viridian to deal with already.”

Red walks past him and tugs down the brim of his hat, eyes skipping over to the lab coat and glasses thrown over the couch.

“You look good in that.”

Green chokes.

* * *

“Oh, wow. I almost forgot about this.”

Red brushes the strands of green ribbon down the quilt and wiggles closer to Green. The wrapping paper remains intact from Green’s careful unwrapping of his gift, which makes Red glad; he can create something nice out of it for Pikachu and Eevee later.

His eyes droop when Green squeezes his hand. Later.

Green slips on his glasses and brushes his fingertips over the book’s cover. “Is this your old copy?”

“Found it a couple months ago behind my bookcase at Mom’s.” Unable to wait, Red flips open the colorful cover and turns to the page about Eevee.

“I don’t even know what happened to the copy I had.” Green gives it a quick glance and then flips to the page about Pikachu instead. The page’s top corner is folded, as he expected, as he hoped all those years ago when he wanted Red to memorize every word with him.

“So you _did_ actually use this,” Green laughs. “Nice to know all my effort wasn’t wasted on an air-head like you.”

“Thanks.”

“Nah.” Green sets the picture book on the nightstand and places his glasses on top. Red loses sight of him when the lamp goes off, but it’s not long until he feels Green’s hand on his shoulder and lips on his cheek.

“Thank you.”


	2. Seven A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven A.M: hope, improved insight and perspective.

Red jerks awake when he hears, of all things, the sound of a vacuum outside the bedroom door at seven in the morning.

The whirring noise itself is startling enough – he hasn’t heard a vacuum ever since he left Pallet Town – but nothing is more startling than emerging from the room to find the culprit who broke his sleep, only to discover that the disturber is Green.

Red blinks at Green, then at the vacuum, then at Green again.

“Er – sorry about that,” Green says after a moment, rolling up the device’s cord in his hand. “You usually act dead anyway so I didn’t think a vacuum would actually wake you up.”

He shrugs – of course, it’s never _his_ fault – and tugs the vacuum away into the hall closet. “It’s what you deserve for tracking mud into my place. So deal with it.”

For a rare moment, Red is not just silent, but speechless.

\---

Red remembers when they were seven.

Green barged through his front door with pokeballs he stole from Oak’s lab, running in circles and arms out as though he were soaring freely on a Pidgeot. Red rushed down the stairs to greet his new friend, but stopped dead in his tracks when his mother got to Green first with a rare edge to her voice.

“Green! Your shoes are filthy!” His mother sighed in exasperation, not used to dealing with a child as wild as Green. “Dear, you’re tracking mud all over my clean carpet…”

“So what? It’ll come out! Let’s go, Red!” Green grabbed his hand before Red could point out the filth as well, and dragged him outside towards the tall grass.

“Green,” Red finally said, after catching his breath. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Tch, you still worried about that?” Green tossed a pokeball up and laughed without a care in the world. “She’ll clean it up! What do grown-ups know, anyway? It’s just a stupid carpet.”

Red shifted on his feet and frowned at the grass enclosing them within the town. “You shouldn’t steal from your grandpa’s lab. He told us not to come out here…”

He knew it would annoy his friend, a boy who received endless lectures from the tiny family he had already, but Green grabbed at Red’s hands again, looking more determined and desperate than ever.

“Red. We’re best friends, right? Right?”

Green didn’t let go when Red gave a hesitant nod, and kept holding him as they trekked through the grass together.

Despite being scolded and grounded that night, Green stole pokeballs again the next week and repeated the process again.

\---

Red finds himself speechless again when Green takes their plates and starts _cleaning_ them.

The apartment is wealthy and comes with a dishwasher with plenty of space for a pair, but Green still spends a few minutes scraping stray bits of bread and vegetables away before slipping them into the washer. Leaving them in the sink seems perfectly acceptable to Red, but Green continues working until no food and dishes are left astray in the kitchen.

“ _What?_ ” he barks, very well feeling the pair of eyes on him, and Red ducks his head.

“Weirdo,” Green mutters to himself, moving to the living room. “It’s like you’ve never seen someone do dishes before.”

\---

Red remembers visiting Green’s house when he turned eight.

“Don’t you want more cake, Red? Promise I won’t make you pay for it!” Green laughed at his own joke as he waved the spatula harder in Red’s face. Red politely shook his head and held his plate away; he just wanted to move upstairs to Green’s room and play, like they were supposed to as best friends.

Red’s eyes flickered over to Professor Oak’s gifts to his grandson on the table: Pokemon toys, Pokemon books, Pokemon plushies, Pokemon everything. There was nothing Red particularly wanted to play with, but if Green was having fun, then Red supposed he could, too.

Daisy’s lectures snapped him out of his thoughts, and Red quickly collected up his dishes and slid them next to the sink before they got worse.

“See? Red puts his dishes away, and he’s younger than you!” Green only rolled his eyes at his sister’s wagging finger, never one to shy away from escalating the situation. “You’re getting to be a big boy now, and you should be sharing some of the responsibilities around here.”

“Whatever! You can’t tell me what to do!” Green rushed upstairs before Daisy could retort or call in their grandfather, carrying his Pokemon gifts with him but leaving Red behind.

\---

Red lays back on the couch and holds Pikachu up in the air, smiling at how his companion stretches out his limbs and attempts to squeak airplane noises through Pokemon language. They both pretend they’re back on Mount Silver, before the new Champion came, before Green came, before Red realized how much he had missed in his years away.

He hears Eevee’s footsteps trail around the living room, following Green protectively as he collects – laundry?

Pikachu makes an offended noise when one of Red’s hands nearly slips.

“Do you need anything washed?” Green asks in the middle of a yawn. He hoists the laundry basket higher up his hip. “You better be using those other clothes I got you, by the way. I earn my paycheck for _me_ , not a dumbass freeloader like you.”

Green patiently waits through Red’s silence and bizarre staring, but gives up after a few seconds and rolls his eyes.

“Not my fault if you start smelling like a Koffing,” he says.

\---

Red remembers feeling nervous after he turned nine, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he would be alone very, very soon.

His companion – friend? best friend? – tightened the pack around his waist, brand new clothes and brand new accessories that would just get dirty by tomorrow, and walked faster through the tall grass, forcing Red to run just to keep up. He was beginning to suspect Green liked making him run just to keep up all the time.

“You’re too slow,” Green growled, kicking a rock. “I’m not gonna find you if you get lost. Cry to your mom for that!”

Rebellion raged within him, but Red kept his fists at his side. They already got in trouble earlier for fighting, but it was only because Green shoved at him and called him names. It was only because Green got mad when Red didn’t want to see wild Pokemon. It was only because it was _all_ Green’s fault.

With his mind miles away, he didn’t notice the stray tree root in the middle of his path and tripped over it, falling hard into the dirt. Green made fun of him for being clumsy when they were younger, so Red was better now, and managed to get by with only a scraped palm, scraped knee, and dirty clothes. But he was still young and it felt like everything _stung_ , but he sunk his teeth into his lips and refused to cry.

“Red?” Green retraced his steps and pushed aside the grass, catching his trembling friend on the ground. “What the heck did you do?”

“…Tripped,” Red said once he was sure his voice wouldn’t shake with the rest of him. He clung to his knee and hissed when his fingers brushed over the torn skin. “I’m fine.”

For a moment, he thought Green would leave him behind like he previously warned, but Green plopped down to his side and rummaged through his pack, pulling out small wipes and Pikachu-pattern bandages.

“No, you’re not, you big baby,” Green argued, but it was a weak argument. Red watched in amazement as Green – wild, rude, independent Green – tore open a wipe and took his hand to inspect the dirt.

“These are gonna sting a little.” He smirked. “You’re not gonna cry, right?”

Red took a breath and shook his head. “’M not a baby.”

“Are, too,” Green retorted, and pressed down the wipe before Red could argue back. Despite the pain and delay in their hike, they laughed at each other.

On their way back later that evening, Green had to smack Red’s head to get him to pay attention to the route and not at the Pikachu bandages on his hand and knee.

“Pay attention or you’ll trip again, dummy!” Green moved to shove at his shoulder, but Red had kept up fast enough to shove first.

“I’m not a dummy. Don’t call me that.” He clenched his fist hard enough to wrinkle the bandage in his palm. “You’re being really mean, Green.”

“Whatever.” Green stomped ahead to his own house, not even bothering to wave goodbye to his friend – neighbor. “I don’t wanna hang out with a dummy anyway.”

Green slammed the door before Red could give him thanks for the bandages, or maybe it was because Red was too fascinated with the Pikachu pattern to notice Green standing on the porch, waiting for him, waiting for anything to prove they would still be all right, but Red simply missed out on that.

\---

“No, slice the bread like _this_. Honestly, Red, it’s not like you’re doing fossil science. What, have you made Venusaur cut all your food the entire time?”

“Yes,” Red deadpans, and Green rubs his forehead harder.

“Forget I even asked. You gonna manage?”

“I’m fine,” Red says, which is soon followed by, “–Ow.”

Green returns to the kitchen faster than a hurricane. “ _What did you do?_ ”

“Nothing. Just cut myself.” Green knows him too well, and grabs Red’s wrist before Red can pop his finger into his mouth.

“Don’t lick it, dumbass. Who knows where that hand has been?”

Red wants to respond with the obvious _on the bread_ , but Green drags him away to the bedroom and shoves him down to the bed before rushing to the bathroom.

“ _Sit_ ,” he orders from the bathroom without even looking, and Red sits back down with a huff. Green really does know him too well.

Green returns with a small blue box, resembling the ones he gave to Red on Mount Silver before taking him by the ear and tugging him back to civilization. The wipes look and sting the same way, and most of the bandages are generic tone colors for generic adults, but Green manages to stumble upon more colorful ones at the bottom.

“Geez, these are old,” he mutters, peeling away the paper wrapping. “Whatever, they’ll work for a small cut. So don’t complain.”

Green will probably tease him later for it, but Red can’t help smiling back at the Pikachu pattern wrapped around his finger.

“…Thank you.”

“It’s about time you thanked me.” Green smirks – genuinely, at least – and leans forward to accept Red’s payment of a kiss.

\---

Red remembers when Green first raged through the blizzard and yelled out years’ worth of frustrations in only a few minutes.

He remembers Green visiting constantly, annoyingly, determined to bring Red back and repent for whatever agony Green claimed Red put him through.

He remembers being surprised at himself when he finally caught on to why his rival was doing all this, and especially remembers Green’s surprise when Red initiated the first kiss.

He remembers knocking on his own house’s front door, having lost the key in the snow ages ago, and the look on his mother’s face.

He remembers moving in with Green and passing the time by watching Green clean the kitchen, buy groceries, take Eevee out for walks, pay the bills, and send research to the League every month to keep his gym funded. Sometimes Red wonders where the friend he knew as a child went, and thinks that maybe this simply won’t work, just as their pseudo-friendship from childhood didn’t work. It seems like he can never keep up with Green.

“Hey, idiot. Stop hogging the covers.”

“Sorry.” Red shoves some away, but Green catches up to him first and simply squirms closer to him instead, wrapping the covers around both of them.

“Sure you are. You’re just lucky you’re a likable idiot.”

Green plants gentle kisses on the back of Red’s neck, so light and affectionate that Red almost misses it. But he’s missed enough in his time away, how people have changed and still remained the same all at once, so he rolls over and threads his fingers through Green’s wild hair, taking in all the features of someone he never knew he missed the most.


	3. One P.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One P.M: self-image and personal security.

When Red starts seeing Green looking at himself in the mirror with mouth wide and tongue out several times a day, he dismisses it as Green just being Green. It eventually evolves into Green biting at his tongue, poking at the center with a nail, and pulling it out as far as he can between two fingers until his face scrunches up.

“What,” Red finally asks, grabbing at Green’s wrist before he has a chance to really tear his tongue out.

Surprised at being caught in the act, his friend stares for a moment, but then smirks, obviously having a plan in mind. Red knows him far too well to believe that it’s probably not the best idea in the world, and one with high chances of biting Green back and making him complain about it for the rest of his life.

“Heh.” Green sticks his tongue out again; like he needs any excuse to do that to Red in the first place. “I’m thinking of getting my tongue pierced.”

Of all the strange ideas, Red isn’t expecting that. So he settles for staring.

“Come on, don’t give me that. It’s totally a great idea!” Green looks to Eevee for support, but gets the same flat gaze. “Whatever, screw you guys. I’m gonna do it.”

“It’ll hurt,” Red points out. He pats Pikachu on his shoulder, who perks up at the implication of _Green_ and _in pain_ in one conversation.

“Will not. Wanna bet?”

Red tugs down his cap and hides his smile. “You’re on.”

\---

Green likes to think he’s learned a lot of things growing up over the past few years, but he can’t understand why he hasn’t caught on yet that making bets with Red is almost always the dumbest thing he can do. He strolls into the shop for his one p.m. appointment, bragging at Red and at all the girls waiting in line that it’ll be a cakewalk. It’s all part of his image; brave and wild and rebellious, and they’re all such obvious pieces of him but Green has to remind everyone of these qualities anyway, proudly and loudly.

He just hopes no one outside the shop heard his startled cry when the needle actually went through.

Judging by Red’s look of extreme _I told you so_ , most likely not.

“Awwh, ooh, _ow_ ,” Green whines as he stumbles out, clinging onto his jaw. The long barbell presses against the roof and underside of his mouth, and keeps pressing as his tongue swells rapidly around the piercing. He laughs nervously and attempts to wave it off. “Ya, peef o’ cake.”

“When are you going to tell the Professor?”

Green comes to a sudden halt and pales. He didn’t think that part through – and likely forgot the bet as well, so Red decides not to remind him about that just yet.

\---

Naturally, two days later, the family calls.

Green looks at the name flashing on his pokegear and almost spits out the ice cube he’s sucking on. Thankfully, the cube and his hilariously swelled tongue muffle all his profanity.

“Oh, fuh. Gramps!” He chucks the phone at Red and points at it. “Tell hi’ ‘m noh aron’!”

“…” Without a clue as to what Green’s gibberish orders and wild hang signals mean, Red flips open the pokegear and gives the best response he can think of.

“Green got his tongue pierced,” he says the moment the call starts.

Red holds up the phone so Green can listen to Oak’s lecture as his friend collapses onto the couch and holds a cushion over his head. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but somehow Red doesn’t think Green will thank him for breaking the ice this early.

Despite the hour-long talk on diseases and personal image, the phone conversation ends rather well.

\---

Green’s tongue heals enough two weeks later for the smaller barbell, which just makes his face scrunch up more unless his Viridian fans are around. Red sees him stick out his tongue in pictures with trainers with an expression that can take on the world – wild, defiant, insane Green who doesn’t care what others think, except when someone does think badly of him and he rages a storm until the other accepts and loves him just the way he is.

It took years for Red to understand that aspect of Green, and now he can’t understand why the new image is necessary now. But storms always change, and Green is always changing to adapt to the world, too.

“Why?” Red asks, just to be sure. He lies on his back over the bed and touches Green’s arm.

“Hmm?” Green stops rolling his tongue around to feel the metal and sits beside him. “What, the piercing? Just wanted to try it.”

“That’s all?”

Green turns away and rubs the back of his head; a nervous habit that he’ll never admit. He finally looks at Red again and smiles, sticking his pierced tongue out.

“Don’t you like it?” he asks – just to be sure.

Red only gives it a brief glance before shrugging. “I like you just the way you are.”

Another thing he can’t understand is why Green freezes up and sputters whenever Red says something honest like that, or why Green usually punches him in the arm afterward. It’s the truth, after all, and Red thinks it’s beneficial to remind Green of that once in a while.

“Sap,” Green mutters, messing up Red’s hair after the obligatory punch. “…I like you for the stupid way you are, too, but you’re still a sap.”

Red rubs his arm and frowns, but doesn’t punch back, because Green is leaning down and cupping his cheek to pull him forward. Red realizes he almost forgot their bet, too, but despite his untamed ways, Green is still honorable and knows how to accept his losses now. It seems silly, betting over who gets to kiss who first, and Red almost expects a new metallic taste to Green’s lips, but it’s not really that different from what he fell in love with before.

He pulls away first and lets Green mull over his words silently, allowing the truth and confidence to sink in – but then Green flashes a worrying smirk, and Red almost rubs his forehead in irritation.

“I was also thinking of piercing m–”

“No.”


	4. Four A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four A.M: improved luck or victory over a specific set of deterring circumstances.

It was a running joke that gym leaders could never hope to date in the likely event of trainer jealousy – a term coined over how much their Pokemon disliked _sharing_ with others. It often occurred after years of having certain Pokemon, making bonds tougher than stone and trading highly discouraged by that point. Having a Pokemon of opposite gender was just asking for it, and Green had earned many tails to the face from Eevee whenever conversations with other lady trainers became too long for her tastes (usually by after ten seconds).

It seemed Pikachu had a streak of trainer jealousy in him as well. Naturally, it was perfectly fine for him and Eevee to chase each other in the cave, roll around on the floor together, and bump foreheads and cheeks, but all hell broke loose if Green attempted any contact with Red. A pat to the shoulder would be knocked away by Pikachu’s tail (with a few hundred volts of electricity sneaking in, the brat), a hug would be broken with Eevee wriggling in between their chests, and the few times he gathered up the guts to plant a kiss on Red’s cheek would always end up on someone who was definitely _not_ Red. Pikachu certainly seemed delighted to receive the kisses, and even more delighted to then jump over to Red and snatch a kiss from him with Green watching.

They were enjoying it, sure, but Green wasn’t going to surrender to all his crushed dreams. He waited, remained patient, calculated all his moves to get Red away from their Pokemon for at least two seconds so he could take his chance. He found his opportunity at the ridiculous hour of four am, when Pikachu and Eevee were blissfully asleep and when Red was just starting to wake up in preparation for daily training.

For once, he was grateful for Red’s silence and stupid waking hours. The Champion gave him an odd look but asked no questions as Green shifted around in their sleeping bag and took Red’s chin in his hand. Red’s flat expression seemed to show no anger or complaint; just a little impatience, so Green took it as his cue to hurry up and get on with it. He couldn't help but tease Red a little first, touching their foreheads together and bumping the tips of their noses, then he finally closed the gap to kiss him.

He'd never run down a mountain so fast before, enforced by a yellow rat determined to zap his heart still and Eevee shredding his scarf to threads.


	5. Two P.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two P.M: building relationships, encouraging understanding and love between people, sexual symmetry.

“I was thinking we should take a vacation together.”

Red gives him a flat look, one that reminds Green of just how many vacations he takes away from his gym in the first place. Green waves his hand and rephrases.

“I mean, a proper one. Together. And without them.”

Green points towards the couch. Eevee and Pikachu stop their playing to stare back, wondering what’s happening between their trainers. Green glares; Pikachu’s ears drop down and his cheeks spark up.

Red’s look gets even flatter.

\---

After a short while of intense convincing (three weeks), Red finally gives in to leaving their teams behind for an agreed maximum of one night. They arrive in Johto at two o’clock and head to the daycare center first before setting off for Ecruteak. Green plans to get to the hotel by four, finish dinner by seven, and be spent and naked in bed by ten. Preferably.

That gives Red and Pikachu two hours to stop _clinging_ onto each other in the middle of the center before they have to leave.

Green puts his hands on his hips as he watches the pitiful display. “You already agreed to this and I already paid, so let him go already.”

Pikachu whines and buries his face in Red’s jacket. He can’t understand Pikachu very well, but there’s no doubt he’s whining about something involving the Big Bad Meanie making him leave Red forever and why do you like this guy anyway. Green would pry Pikachu off Red himself, but he has a feeling it’ll land him with a bad case of paralysis. Damn rat.

Eevee thankfully comes to his rescue and prances around Red’s legs, calling out for Pikachu to come down. Slowly, Red kneels and sets his prized Pokemon next to her, who immediately gets his cheeks rubbed by Eevee’s.

Green grabs Red’s arm the moment he’s free and pushes him towards the door. “Good, let’s get going already.”

While Red stumbles outside, Green swiftly leans down towards Pikachu and waves a finger in his face.

“You touch my girl, you’re a dead mouse. Got that?”

Pikachu’s cheeks spark up.

Green flees before he has a chance to get zapped.

\---

“…Wonder if he’s alright.”

“Relax. That place is owned by Hibiki’s grandparents, remember?” Green goes for another attempt at smoothly taking Red’s hand as they walk up the route, which fails yet again when Red uses his hands to twist at his jacket instead.

“Can we call them?”

“ _Give_ me that.” Green forcibly grabs his hand and treks on, dragging Red behind him.

\---

The caretaker sends them all outside to play before dinner. Green’s and Red’s teams eye each other cautiously, not used to being next to each other without throwing punches or fireballs.

Pikachu decides he has to break the ice.

“Chuu!” He asks Venusaur to help him pick some stray flowers, then calls at Pidgeot to find a berry for him. The others crowd around as Pikachu strings together his creation, but the mouse bounces off before they can see it

Pikachu runs up to Eevee near the white fence enclosing them. They all could easily fly or dig out and find their trainers, but they were ordered to stay and they know their trainers will come back. Eevee paces along the fence and lake for the water-types, looking at the neighboring route; Pikachu guesses that she misses Green already.

His cheeks flare up. He’s way better than that bully.

“Pika!”

“V-vui?!” Eevee cries out in surprise when Pikachu suddenly takes her ear and jumps back. Something slides down and rests against her head, making her look at her reflection in the lake.

A small flower bracelet encircles her ear, with white buds and a yellow berry in the middle.

When she looks back, Machamp and Blastoise are giving Pikachu a thumbs-up.

\---

It’s fairly easy to get access to the Bell Tower; gym leader connections and official word from Morty get them past the monks guarding the area, despite how unimpressed they look. Green smirks at every one they see just to make them frown harder.

They sit at the top and watch the sunset after dinner. Green’s thinking of stretching out his arm and draping it over Red’s shoulder as he fakes a yawn (classic move), but Red initiates by wrapping his arms around Green’s waist. That works, too.

Green plants a kiss on top of Red’s head, smiling when the other boy’s hands start wandering into his jacket.

“Shouldn’t we wait until we get back to the hotel?”

Red suddenly pries himself off, Green’s pokegear successfully taken from his jacket and in his hand.

Green snatches it back before Red can flip it open and find the daycare’s number.

\---

Pikachu sniffs the floorboards, relying on his nose in the middle of the night to navigate around the daycare center. He was placed in a bedding area with a few other electric-types, but it’s just not the same without Red or Eevee curled next to him.

He finally catches on Eevee’s scent and finds her in her own bedding, secluded in a corner. She’s so much like her trainer; wanting it all at the top of the world with no one else, except she’s much nicer and prettier and doesn’t punch Red in the arm all the time. The flower bracelet is still around her ear, mixing in with her natural scent. Pikachu’s ears flick. He _really_ likes Eevee.

He tries to be sneaky but she still wakes up when he lays next to her. Ever alert, Eevee jumps a little but relaxes when she sees light yellow sparks in the darkness.

“Pika?”

“Vui…”

They stare at opposite walls, now fully awake. Pikachu clears his throat.

Eevee places a paw on top of his own.

They look back at each other.

\---

They leave the Tower after sunset and don’t return to the hotel until nine, but at least Green is spent and naked in bed by nighttime, and that’s more than good enough for him. He rolls to his side and drapes himself over Red, lips trailing around his shoulder with a sigh.

“Red...you’re so-”

“Is it too late to call?”

Green slowly sits up to stare at him, then grabs his pillow to thoroughly smother Red’s face.

\---

They return at two the next day, if only because Green made Red do some sightseeing before leaving the city. Ever the morning person, Red had tried to leave before seven, but Green bared his teeth and that was the end of that conversation. His money is good for a full twenty-four hours, and he’ll milk it as much as possible.

The moment they step into the daycare center, the caretaker starts clapping.

“Congratulations, you two!”

They blink, waiting for an explanation (Red) or gifts to appear (Green). Pikachu and Eevee run up to them; Pikachu immediately jumps into Red’s arms and clings to whine for the rest of forever, while Eevee calmly curls her tail around Green’s leg. He’s about to bend down and see what’s around her ear, but she bounces away before he has a chance.

“Congrats on what?” Green asks.

“On the new addition to the family, of course!” The caretaker points to where Eevee is, next to the fence that leads to the play area.

She sits next to a purple and yellow egg nestled in a blanket, looking as proud as she did when she helped Green become Champion all those years ago.

Green’s eyebrow twitches.

Red immediately shoots a look at Pikachu, who does his best attempt at looking innocent. It involves a lot of blushing and head shaking, but his trainer isn’t convinced at his Pokemon’s excuse.

Green doesn’t even get that far. He blacks out before he hits the floor.

\---

“Do you even know what this means?”

Red shrugs and sinks lower on Green’s couch, trying to focus on the Pokemon magazine he’s reading. Green continues talking anyway, staring at the egg on the coffee table and holding an ice pack against the bump on his head. Red rereads the same sentence for the fifth time.

“This means we’re practically parents – no, like we’re _grandparents_. Like I’m already a grandpa. I don’t want to be like Gramps!”

Red turns and faces the couch, hiding his face deeper into the magazine.


	6. Six A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six A.M: tenacity and perseverance, especially with something you have been putting off.

The clock reads 6:01 am when Green’s pokegear goes off. Red can’t help smiling into the pillow when he hears his companion swear and smack at the nightstand in a sleepy attempt to find the source of the offending noise. He’s only been ‘back’ for a couple months now, but he’s able to recognize the phone’s tune from some song he heard on the radio last week. The disturbance doesn’t bother him as he usually awakens before six, but he knows better than to rouse Green at what has been deemed ‘ungodly hours.’ He loses some of the bedsheets when Green finally bothers to roll over enough, grab his pokegear, and flop back down to the mattress with a groan. Red is turned away from Green, but without looking he knows that Green is rubbing his forehead in irritation.

“Who the…Gramps, for love of – no real human being is up at this hour. For the last time, my name is Green…”

Red considers rolling over but stays put to hide his ever-increasing smile. He doesn’t need to in the end; Green returns to his side and buries his face in the back of Red’s neck: partly to get closer and partly to relieve his annoyance at why this conversation had to happen at the crack of dawn. Living away almost made Red forget the people in his hometown, their habits, their routines; staying with Green a majority of the time now caught him up on the few people still living there.

To his relief, nothing has changed since his last stay in Pallet Town. It’s all he needs to know about it.

“I’m not coming over right _now_ ,” Green protests into the pokegear. Red feels a sigh breeze over his shoulder, followed by a trail of lazy, warm kisses on his neck. His smile drops and his lips part, back pressing harder against Green’s chest. It’s terribly distracting, he knows, but Green never complains about distractions until hours after they’ve already happened.

“Fine, but later on. I don’t know _when_ , just later. Noon, sure, why not. _Bye._ ” He snaps the pokegear shut and tosses it near the end of the bed, free arm quickly slinking under the sheets and taking hold around Red’s chest, a groan muffled against his hair. Red turns to face him, unable to hide his small smile any longer.

“Visiting?”

“Today, yeah.” Green looks like a mess: sleepy eyes, ruffled hair, rough, beautiful. “When I feel like it.”

Red nods and reaches for the oval necklace around Green’s neck; something to distract himself until Green falls back asleep or kisses him harder. Instead, Green continues to speak.

“You should come to Pallet with me. We could–”

Red emerges from the sheets before he finishes, collecting his clothes off the floor in a flash and heading straight towards the bathroom. He hears Green smack a hand against a pillow in frustration.

“So you want me to lie about your whereabouts again? You have to go back there someday. Listen to me, you–”

Red shuts the bathroom door before he can finish. He already knows what the rest of the conversation will be like.

\---

The prospect of sleeping in having been ruined, Green lands in Pallet Town around ten instead of noon as he originally intended. In the short distance between the lab’s front door and his grandfather’s desk, he yawns twice. Red is long gone, probably for a few days, but he knows better by now than to leave and not expect anyone to drag him back by the ear. Or so Green sincerely hopes.

“You look tired, Green.”

“Long night,” he replies, which is the truth, for once. He immediately ruins that with a lie to uphold it. “Trainers kept coming in before closing.”

“I see. Now, your Pokedex?”

There’s not much reason for him to stay once his Pokedex gets his grandfather’s latest updates, but there’s not much reason for him to go back to Viridian either. He stays for tea at the lab, listening to the Professor’s latest news and only mentioning a little bit of his own when necessary. All the tales he gives are sanitized and edited down – gym battles from half-rate trainers, hikes on Cinnabar, his Pokemon’s progress, and that’s all he has to say, thanks for the tea, see you later.

Of all the people he should visit while here, it’s his sister – alone in their big house, but full of amusing stories about trainers coming by for massages. She pours him his second cup of tea and fires away: apparently the newest Champion has been spreading her name around on her work, making Green very happy (something for his sister to do now that he’s away) and outrageously annoyed (he’ll have to change phone numbers again soon if she keeps giving his out). He gently reminds her with clenched fists for the twentieth time to keep his number private, finishes the tea, and plants a kiss on her cheek before leaving.

His old neighbor catches him just as he’s about to call Pidgeot out.

He’s sick of tea by now but accepts Red’s mother’s request to come in for a quick third cup. Admittedly, the tea that she likes to serve is the best and sweetest, but it still tastes sharp and bitter when it goes down his throat. Staring at his own reflection in the cup is the worst part, but he continues to look as a reminder of the terrible man he is – anything to avoid looking at the woman across from him for too long, or else he’ll break.

“It’s good you’re keeping so busy, but just remember not to overwork yourself,” she says to him. “You’re still young, after all.”

“It’s not like it’s hard work.” He shrugs it off and downs as much tea as he can in one gulp. He can’t finish it all, as always, and the reflection stays.

“Sorry,” he finally says after a long pause. “I haven’t–”

“It’s fine, Green.” Red’s mother waves her hand, brushing it off so easily. He can’t blame her for being so relaxed; it’s the same answer he’s given her for the past three years. “We’ll find him when he wants to be found. I’m sure that, wherever he is, he’s doing okay.”

Green pushes aside his unfinished tea and stands. “I have to go. Thanks for the drink.”

It takes all his willpower to calmly walk out the door and pretend he doesn’t hear what she says as he leaves.

Every time he goes to visit Red’s mother, he says to himself, he’ll finally drop to his knees and confess. Every time he actually does visit, he puts it off for another day. He orders Pidgeot to fly back to Viridian as fast as he can manage, before he has a chance to change his mind and turn right back around. All he ever wanted in life was Red, only Red, Red all for himself and no one else could share. It’s the same as from when they were kids – Green made it unwritten law that no one else was allowed to play with Red, back when they were young and careless and free from responsibilities, because surely all Red needed was Green. The more Red pushed for independence as they grew up, the more Green shoved back to have him for his own.

Years later, having Red suddenly became an entirely different matter.

The apartment is still empty when he returns in the afternoon. It’s hard to imagine Red ever being there in the first place – no clothes left behind, no food missing from the fridge, no leftover wrinkles in the sheets on their shared bed. Green manages to shed his jacket and let Eevee out of her pokeball before crashing onto the bed, this morning’s disturbance finally taking its toll on his tired eyes.

It’s not a problem that Red isn’t here to fill up the apartment with him right now. Red will soon return, and the process will repeat itself as it always does. Green will mention going to their old home for the day, and Red will make him promise not to tell anyone where he is, and Green will fall for it every time.

Next time, he promises himself as he drifts off. Next time, for sure.


	7. Six P.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six P.M: matters of safety, protection and completion.

Living atop a mountain wasn’t just ridiculously dumb; it was also dangerous. Green knew Red had handled all its elemental threats without any help for several years, but it didn’t mean a broken bone or poisonous Golbat bite wasn’t waiting just around the corner for him. Red was prone to careless mistakes, Green believed; he hadn’t changed a bit since they were so much younger. Thus, when he had the chance, he would close up the gym just before six, slip on a stuffed backpack, and trek up the mountain before it got too dark.

He brought endless supplies: bandages, disinfectant, pills, tape, clips to add to the meager first aid collection Red kept in the back of the cave. He always seemed to have a new cut on his arm or bruise on his knee whenever Green visited, but somehow he was able to patch all his injuries up and heal perfectly, like the cut or bruise never even happened in the first place. Green soon began insisting that he fix up all of Red’s injuries with rather weak excuses to defend his noble cause: _my supplies are newer, I know how to use them better, you’re too tired to do them yourself anyway, stop moving and just let me help._

Red quietly gave in to the demands, only if Green caught him in the middle of secretly wrapping a cut. It took Green back to when they were kids, when Red would tremble and blink away the tears that stubbornly escaped over a simple scraped knee. Green would call him weak and demand for the crying to stop, but he always helped patch up the scrape and get Red back on his feet. His reward for all his efforts was one of Red’s small smiles – the biggest and best thing Green could ever receive.

Now, years later, Green wasn’t needed to dab his eyes or stop the bleeding. It was his worst nightmare; the fact that maybe, he wasn’t needed anymore.


End file.
